Tranny Lover, True Tranny Sex Stories

There’s the perfect bar in my town. Straights and gays alike turn out to see the queens perform two shows a night, but queens never turned me on, sexually speaking. The Nitro always had plenty of other — better — action, in my opinion, around the pool tables, in the bathrooms and on the patio.

The Nitro don’t open till around 8 and the crowds begin spilling in around 9 for the first show, a song-and-dance-type of thing with lots of lip-synching. The DJ plays the music so loud it’ll almost split your eardrums. Just loud enough to cover up the ridiculous come-ons you’re giving the warm studly body standing or sitting next to you.

I knew most of the performers by name by virtue of nearly always being at the door at opening time. The early bird gets the worm, or cock — what can I say? Anyway, they all came in early and would drink and chat awhile before retiring to the dressing room where it took some of them up to two hours to emerge looking like real women. The funny part is, you might see a truck, for instance, pull up and a guy with a 5 o’clock shadow get out. Two hours later the lovely creature on stage raising every dick in the house with “her” exotic routine would be that very same male plumber who drove the truck. And apparently without a hair on “her” face or legs and with the fairest skin you’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, the brighter the light and the closer your proximity, the more likely the “girls’” image is to, shall we say, break down.

The night I met Leesa, I came in late, right after the first show. The “girls” were circulating through the crowd getting extra tips stuffed down their bras and up the legholes of their costumes. There were a few empty stools at the bar, so I took a seat, ordered a beer and turned toward the room to get the lay of the land.

It seemed like the usual crowd, but then I spotted her over by the pool tables where guys were stuffing dollar bills wherever they’d stay stuck. Nobody around me knew her name. The bartender said her name was Leesa and that it was her first night.

For a ten dollar bill, most of the “girls” would let you stuff a bill some place naughty, like between her ass cheeks or in her crotch. A twenty might get you an orgasm. Leesa was getting far more tips than the other performers that night.

As I mentioned, at first I thought Leesa was really a woman. It was just impossible to picture her otherwise. She worked the crowd expertly and, as the bar area got crowded again, she started at the far end of the counter and chatted and groped her pretty self down my way.

I figured that up close she’d look like any other guy in drag. I was wrong. Leesa was a heart-breaker! I handed her a ten and asked, “Honey, are you *really* a man?”

Even her voice sounded female as she answered. “Yeah, I’m a guy.”

“Well, you’re the damn sexiest queen I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Thanks. You come here often?”

“Hell, I’d have to call in sick if I missed a day — the bartender would worry about me.”

Leesa giggled and slapped my thigh lightly. “You’re such a hoot!” she said.

Me — a hoot! How about that shit? But I didn’t care what she called me; I had to have her. Unfortunately, every swinging dick in the house probably felt the same way.

Then I leaned forward and whispered, “Honey, take pity on this poor bastard. If I don’t have you I’ll die!”

It was the poorest line I’d ever come up with, but Leesa giggled and patted my hand.

“I probably won’t get away from her till after one o’clock, hon. Is that too late for you?”

“Hell no!” I lied. I handed her another ten and she came close, took my hand and pushed it against her ass. I slid the bill under the legband.

The next three hours were the longest wait of my life. I was in a state of perpetual erection. I wanted Leesa so bad it hurt. And when I saw her on stage, my misery just increased.

A moment ago, I said drag queens aren’t my cup of tea. I’ve often wondered what it was about Leesa that flipped my switch. I’ve concluded it was a combination of things. Beauty, for one — knowing she was a man in such a sexy package. If she’d been a real woman, I couldn’t have gotten my cock up at all. As it was, I could picture we banging away at his beautiful asshole all night long.

The other thing is, I used to avoid queens because I like my sex a little rowdier and often raunchier than most of them can take. I just had the impression that Leesa was different.

Man, was I right!

After the last show, I went on back to the dressing room and helped her put her things away. She was still dressed in a low-cut one-piece bathing suit and high heels. She packed away her make-up in a three-drawer tackle box and I grabbed it and out the door we went. We got in my car and ended up at my apartment.

Fortunately, both of us had avoided drinking much, and my dick was about as hard and functioning as it could get. He kissed and made out on the couch and then went upstairs to my bedroom. Leesa kept her wig and makeup on but stepped out of her clothes, stockings and all. Leesa’s dick was Duck-tapped between her legs.

“Isn’t that painful?”

“Nope — see? I’m shaved.”

She pulled the tape and her huge cock sprang up. I fell to my knees and began sucking like I’ve never sucked before, groping her ass and moaning like it was my first time ever. She pulled back and put her hands to my shoulders.

“Calm down — we’ve got all night!” she said.

She asked me to undress while she went to the toilet. I did, and while laying there I was hoping Leesa would be able to take all I wanted to do to her that night. Some guys blanch out at heavy-duty sex. When she returned my dick was at full attention and oozing pre-cum. My balls were riding high and I knew it wouldn’t take much!

But at this point the real Leesa made a big departure from the Leesa in my imagination. She got on the bed and straddled my face in a near-69 position, and slid her asshole right over my nose.

“I *love* to get reamed,” she said. “It’s such a big turn-on!”

I’ve been reamed myself a couple of times, but I’ve never done it to another person. But let me tell you what a painfully hard dick will do for you: it will make a shit hole taste like candy!

I began lapping at her hole, swirling my tongue all around the puckered muscles, and dabbing my tongue as hard as I could at the center. I was surprised at how tight it was — my tongue was feeling sore after just a few minutes. But Leesa was parting her ass cheeks and slipping and sliding back and forth across my face and I was completely into what was happening. Every now and then she’d let me gobble a ball and kiss her sack, then she’d bring the hole back to my mouth. We must have done it like that for nearly an hour, and the whole time I was hard as a rock.

Finally, Leesa arched her butt up and her dick slipped into my mouth. And what a delightful dick it was! She began fucking my mouth and she got harder and faster and it began to hurt and gag me. She was about to come and I let her use me anyway she wanted. When she finally blew cum, she just kept slamming her pole down my throat.

After she finished, she didn’t even lose her erection.

“Turn over, honey,” she said.

I did, and in a moment she was bruising through my back door and fucking me like I was just a loose pussy back there. I knew I’d terribly misjudged this drag queen. Leesa liked her sex raw and raunchy — even moreso that me!

Damn! I was in love!

The pummeling continued and I couldn’t help but yell at the pain. Every stroke filled my ass with man-meat till I just new I was going to burst. But despite the pain, there was the strongest, horniest attraction I’d ever felt. I blew my wad on the bed as she slammed into me for another quarter of an hour. When she came, I didn’t think she’d ever get through cuming.

Finally we lay together and I held her and kissed her tenderly and deeply. I cradled her head in my arms and stroked her cheek. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, and in the morning she was right there beside me